Popped Seams
by Serori-kun
Summary: CHAPTER EIGHT UPLOADED Vincent POV regarding how he and Cid developed their relationship over the course of the game yaoi, citrus in later chapters. Written to Defy the Stereotypes of Whiny!Vincent and Coddling!Cid UPDATED 42507! CHAPTER 8 UP!
1. Chapter 1

Popped Seams  
A Cid/Vincent Yaoi Fanfic  
  
Mainly written as an attempt to Defy the Stereotypes of Whiny!Crybaby!Vincent and Raunchy!Coddling!Cid. Have at!  
  
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It began slowly, and we never speak of it. After Lucrecia, I had no desire to be vocal about any passion or affection I had for anyone, let alone another man. Yet, somehow, he seemed to know. I suppose that is what makes him The Captain; his attitude, his frankness, the bright spark of life inside him that I both admire and covet. It allows him a certain instinctual insight.  
That night at the Gold Saucer, we shared a room. At the time, my feelings for Cid were vague, even to myself, although I knew for certain that something in me was attracted to something in him. The sharing of a room with someone (particularly with a sub-human thing like myself) is a mark of trust, and I suppose I felt honored by that. I ushered him upstairs, fully expecting to guard his sleep.  
Though he'd been dozing in the lobby, when we came into the actual room he quickly found himself sitting in bed, stripped down to boxers and undershirt, quietly holding a dying cigarette in his lips. I myself was standing at the window, watching the gondola pass over the hotel.   
There are many people who whisper about me as I pass, muttering about how forebodingly beautiful I am, how striking my blood-red eyes are. Poetic, I've heard more than once. Not many people give Cid's eyes as much credit as they deserve, if mine are any indication. They are blue, the shade of blue the sky becomes shortly before the sun reaches its apex. They are sharp and cold as knives, and he stared at me that night; an insistent, constant feeling of his eyes being _on_ me, watching.  
"What?" I asked softly, without turning to face him. I'm not sure I could have.  
"Hm?"  
"What do you want, Cid? You're staring."  
There was a short moment of silence, as if he were considering something. Then, simply, "Yeah. I am."  
I turned to him then; he was sitting on the bed, with the dingy black sheets pooled around his knees, face illuminated only by the cooling fire of his cigarette, eyes closed. "What do you want?" I asked again.  
He shrugged and took a drag. The shadows shrank back from the sudden, brief brightness. "Just to see you, I guess," he said mildly.   
The words were bait to which I knew better than to rise, and I said nothing, let it hang in the air like a stench. I waited for Cid to make a joke, some sort of teasing gesture, anything that would snap the tension I could feel pulling between us. It never came; the steady rhythm of his breath and the wisps of blue smoke drifting in the room only danced across it; his balance on it was perfect.   
To his credit he never moved his eyes from mine, save to blink and to let them drift closed when he drew another breath through the cigarette.   
I looked away first. I watched the window again, the balloons and noises below floating up through the canned sound effects and cheap music. "Shouldn't you be tired? You all but passed out downstairs."  
"No," he said. "Just dozed off from listening to the bunch of them-" he nodded toward the lobby, "-run their mouths all night. What about you? Ain't you tired?"  
"I've had enough sleep for one lifetime."   
"Makes sense."   
And the tension faded; present, but not so tangible anymore. He seemed to let it drop, and although I knew I shouldn't dwell on it, I also knew that he hadn't forgotten either. In a strange, comfortable way, the silence returned, and part of me welcomed its gentle presence. Another part railed against it, the part of my mind that demanded I confront Hojo had not learned its lesson, and even as I watched the electric blue bursts of fireworks outside it screamed for me to confront Cid as well.   
I ignored it.   
  
  
  
  
  
That was the first of many such occasions. Different settings, different hotels, different circumstances. But it always seemed to boil down to the two of us sharing a room; those blue eyes, watching me, in total silence. Two people can learn many things from each other without speaking. For instance, Cid adds cinammon to his tea when he hasn't been sleeping well, and is skilled in basic sewing. I've never been sure if he knows that I've noticed these things, but I suppose it's of little consequence.  
It seemed we didn't need words; I would watch the sky, he would smoke and fix his spears, or stitch up popped seams on his sleeves (It happened often; I suppose with all the fighting and exercise he'd been getting his body was reacting accordingly. Against my better judgment I also noticed the thighs of his jeans getting tighter by the day, though I've never mentioned that, either).   
It was during one of these nights that he came up to me and, without asking permission or even my opinion, he reached up and pulled off my bandanna.   
I caught his wrist reflexively in my claw, and he looked up at me, fire-tipped cigarette in his teeth. "What are you doing, Cid?"  
"Fixin' yer 'do-rag." He held it up, indicating three long slices down the strip of cloth. "I'm tired of lookin' at it."   
"You could have asked."  
"You would've said no."   
"Touché."  
And he went to work, putting careful, tiny stitches in my bandanna, until it was perfectly whole again. But he didn't hand it back, just hung it up on the coatrack on the door, next to his jacket and goggles.   
"I could do your cape, if you wanted," he said.   
It was legitimate enough; my cloak, the only article of clothing I'd had much affection for during my youth, had not seen suitable repair in ages, and so I removed it and my shoulderplates without protest.  
"Much better," he said, and sat down to sew up the loose stitching.  
Had I been in the right state of mind, I likely would have ignored him, but I unfortunately did not take the time to think before I spoke. "You seem to have come up with a clever scheme of undressing me, Captain."  
I dared to slant a glance at him when I heard the weight of the bed shift, and he was looking at me again, blue eyes shining in the fiery glow of his cigarette, smoke sliding from his quirked lips. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" he said.  
"It does."  
I don't know what made me say that, nor do I quite understand what I meant by it. But Cid didn't reply to me; he only smiled.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  



	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter; thank you guys for your reviews!   
  
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Weeks passed. The battles wore on, Cloud fell ill, and Cid was dropped like lead into the position of leader. In a way I couldn't fault the others for choosing Cid for the role; he was a leader in his own town, a mayor, and visionary, and an idealist with just enough pragmatism to be useful.  
Unfortunately, no one had time to consider the toll this took on Cid, and I, being the one who guards his sleep, was the only one to see the reprecussions of the group's decision.   
It came to fruition the night after we rescued the Huge Materia at Corel. We stayed at the Gold Saucer again, having decided that an afternoon of gambling, gaming, and tacky decorum would do wonders for all our nerves. The others played in the video arcade, watched Chocobo races, rode the roller-coaster, but Cid almost immediately retired to the room that he and I were once again sharing. I gave most of my Gold Points to Yuffie, and I spent a few handfuls of Gil in the food court buying a quick dinner for Cid and myself; some heinous interpretation of chicken that I suspected had been a chocobo who lost his race.   
When I returned to the room, I knocked, as it is difficult to balance a tray on a claw while one uses one's functional hand to open the door. But no one answered. It is often my nature to assume the worst, and so I did not hesitate to set the tray on the questionably-stained floor and proceed to dig my claws into the doorframe and pry it open.  
Cid was sitting on the bed, stitching away at his scarf like he was mad. An ashtray full of cigarette butts sat next to him, ashes spilling over the side and onto the coverlet. The pack sitting in his goggles was nearly empty, and I knew it had been full when we checked into the hotel; only three more say patiently awaiting their demise.  
His eyes were red, his fingers trembled and his whole body looked stiff and tense; a strange bowstring, growing tighter and tighter every time the arrow flies.  
Nearly to the point of snapping, I thought.  
"Cid?"  
He jumped a mile, turned to me. "What?" His eyes, so bright and clear and hopeful, were laced with redness and there were dark circles under them.   
I came and sat next to him, laid a hand over his. His voice came out so fragile, so soft, it was almost childlike.   
"I'm tired, Vincent."  
"Sleep, then," I said. "I'll see that you're not disturbed.."  
"No!" he stood up, flinging cigarette ashes to the floor, his scarf half-sewn to his glove. "I can't just fuckin' sleep!" He began to pace the room like a caged tiger, running his hands through his nearly-white hair as if he'd like to tear it out. "The huge Materia.. I coulda been responsible for destroying Corel... and just..everything, just one thing after another...."  
I retraced our steps over the past few days. Between Sephiroth, and Aeris, and the Black Materia, and Nibelheim- God, Nibelheim- our constantly being dogged by Shinra, Cloud's falling ill, and God knows what else might be plaguing the man's mind. He ranted on, but I wasn't listening by then, only watching him come apart at the seams; Cloud was a leader because he could detach from the stress, escape into his own mind, and all the while still hear the gentle reassurances of Aeris, while she was with us, and even now, of Tifa, who was with him even while he gibbered mindlessly in a mental ward.   
Cid didn't have that. He dealt with everything head-on, when he could; it was just his way. And now it was just too much all at once.   
"Cid," I said.   
"What?" His voice was so tired, so tense.   
I went to the door and walked out. "Come with me." 


	3. Chapter 3

Another short chapter, gomen. But it's a bit steamier than the last ones, though.  
  
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I brought him to the Gondola.   
"What the fuck did you bring me here for, Vincent?" Cid muttered tiredly.   
"You need to relax, Cid," I told him simply. He needed rest, relaxation.. release. Strangely the line for the gondola was perfectly empty, which suited me just as well. We proceeded without difficulty, and soon he and I were headed up to the very top of the tower.  
Alone.  
The rickety wooden box creaked along the cables as we rose, higher and higher toward the apex of the gondola's tracks. He sat on one side, I on the other; we both stayed very quiet. The only noise was the faint, distant sound of the Chocobo races and Cid cracking his knuckles.  
I felt no remorse for taking him there. It was something he needed, more than he realized, if he even realized it at all. Looking at him, the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his hands and face, made it very clear that Cid needed three things: physical exhaustion, release, and sleep. And probably a good meal, but that could wait until morning. It wasn't the fact that he needed this, and that he would get it, and really it wasn't the fact that I wanted to be the one to give it to him.   
It was that I wanted to be the only one to give it to him.   
I began to contemplate. What I planned to do would mean shattering the glass wall between us, without warning or invitation; doing this meant I had to take without asking, assume consent, and it wasn't something I was sure I could live with if it were an advance he did not want; it would ruin our tentative friendship, and the waves of something deeper would dry up at my feet. On a more practical and less dire note, I would need more time than the gondola ride could give, unless I tampered with motor on the car, and that meant I would be trapped, in a small space, with an angry, overstressed Cid.   
As is often his manner, he blurted, "I don't get it, Vincent, what the fuck are we doing? There's more shit to be done and you know it! Cloud needs us to--"  
I leaned forward, laid my hand over his mouth. "Shh, Cid. Think rationally. You are tense, stressed, and you haven't been eating properly. Forget about Cloud for now, forget Meteor, forget the Huge Materia, forget it all."  
"Forget--!" he barked; he looked like he wanted to hit me, or at least berate me for being stupid.  
"Yes, Cid. Forget. Stop thinking about it."  
He batted my hand away from his face, gruffly. "What am I supposed to think about?! Cloud is sick, the poor bastard. He's so fucked up in the head he can't talk straight, I almost fuckin' destroyed a whole city that's already HAD the shit kicked out of it, and Sephiroth, and Meteor..."   
"Cid."  
"What?"  
I stood up and planted my claw on his chest, pushed him back against the wooden wall of the gondola and watched a faint blush wash across his cheeks. "Stop. Thinking."   
I straddled his lap and leaned in close against him, staring into his eyes as I undid the buckles fastening my cape. He froze, eyes wide, pulse racing so quickly that I could nearly hear it, and his gaze darted away from mine only just long enough to watch the red fabric slide off my shoulders and onto the floor.  
"Vincen--"  
I laid a finger against his lips. "Shh." Softly I brushed my mouth over his forehead, a butterfly kiss, and I heard his breathing pick up. Now was the moment of truth; his heart rate was up, his breathing was quick, and he was wound so tight beneath my hands I thought he might snap; I held my breath and waited for a hand to throw me to the floor of the gondola, or a broad palm to slap me away from him.  
It never came. I let my breath go. "So tense.." I murmured, lightly dusting more kisses across his cheeks, his eyelids, his temples. Soon his eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and I was able to slightly tip his head back with one hand. "Relax.."  
"Vincent, what are you...?" he trailed off.  
I couldn't help but laugh, partly to cover my nervousness and partly because he sounded genuinely surprised. "Is it that shocking?" I whispered against the near-white downy hair at his temple. "Every night I've had to watch you fall apart... come apart at the seams... and every night I have to stop myself from doing this, just to give you a few moments' peace..." I tilted his head back as far as I could so I could look him in the eyes. "I will not do that anymore, Cid Highwind."  
I took his hands and raised them to my lips, pulled off the worn leather gloves with my teeth. "I won't put up with it," I repeated, and I guided his hands to my hips, spreading my legs a little wider to settle firmly into his lap. "If you truly do not want this, I will remove myself from you and we need never speak of it again. But if you do..."   
I kissed the corner of his mouth, not quite a real kiss.   
"Vincent..." he trailed off, not sure what to say. "We... there's too much to--"  
"Yes or no, Cid. You need this and you know it, but if you refuse me now I won't offer again."  
Cid's eyes, tension, want, worry and lust chasing each other back and forth behind the sky blue sheen, bored into mine and I held my breath, waiting for his decision.   
  
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Chapter 4; lemon or no lemon? You tell me, I'm never sure how far to go with these things.. ^^:  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

He tensed, his fingers trembling and finally clenching in the fabric of my pants. He looked up at me with vulnerable eyes, wider and somehow a more intense blue than I had ever seen; perhaps he was unsure of himself in this.   
He opened his mouth to say something, but I shook my head. "If there are details to be dealt with, if there are protocols to follow; they wait until dawn."  
It took a moment for him to take what I said and let it sink in, but he did. With that, I found myself grabbed by my shirtfront and pulled into the roughest kiss I'd ever had.   
All the pent-up energy, all the stress and worry and whatever ungodly force compelled him to smoke a pack in fifteen minutes just poured from his mouth into mine, lips and teeth and tongue and rough, calloused hands conspiring to tear me in two. He pushed me away just long enough to pull my shirt open, then pulled me close again, nearly crushed me against his barrel chest. I felt selfish at that moment, just for the elation that coursed through me as I tasted the tobacco on his tongue, but it quickly went to the back burner; I decided to follow my own advice and stop thinking.   
Looking back, it likely wasn't a good idea at all. Such recklessness, such abandon; under different circumstances we might have been hurt or, at that height, even gotten killed. But, at the same time, that was part of the thrill.  
Within seconds Cid had pinned me against the wall of the gondola, all hot kisses and strong arms, and admittedly I was more than a little delirious. He leaned flush against me as we stood shakily on the floor, and his body pressed against me in all the right places. I suppose it was only sheer luck that I felt the rattling of the cord and the creaking of the machinery; I had the presence of mind, somehow, to jam my claw into the motor as we passed it.   
Cid blanched, pulled away. "What the f--?"  
I grabbed him by the collar and kissed him soundly. "I don't want us to be interrupted."   
We peeled each other out of our clothes and laid my cape down on the floor, and soon Cid had me pinned to it. He planted his hands over my elbows, keeping them up over my head where I couldn't use them, and he lowered his head to my chest and did something I had not anticipated.  
He went slow. Not quite romantic, not quite lovingly, and certainly not gentle; just slow. He took his time with me, finding places along my neck and chest and stomach that I hadn't known were so sensitive. His tongue slid over my skin, smooth and hot and sensual; I couldn't help but toss my head and moan, murmuring his name.   
With my hands pinned, I was at his mercy, and I remained that way until I felt his hot breath against my thighs; he put a forearm across my hips to hold me down, and he took me to the hilt almost at once. The sudden wet heat sent a jolt through me, and it was all I could do to slide my hand into his hair. I felt myself reaching climax and I shoved him away, sitting up.  
He looked almost wounded. "Vin--"  
"No," I said, "It's not that. I just... didn't want to finish that way."   
"This _ain't_ fuckin' over," he said, and I managed to pin him down this time. I straddled his hips, put my hands on his chest to balance. I had been with men before, in my younger and wilder Turk days, but I had never been on the submissive end of things; I looked forward to it. Cid had my trust.  
"Like this?" he asked breathlessly as he raised me up.   
I nodded, and I let out a deep breath as Cid's strong, broad hands steadily eased me down onto him. After a moment he began to gently rock his hips; we moved together that way, a hard rhythm that felt so wonderful, so natural, as though we were moving to clockwork. I looked down into Cid's half-lidded eyes as he watched me ride.  
_Or our own heartbeats_, I thought, with a distant, content feel.   
He sat up so that I was sitting in his lap, then pushed me down onto my back; whether it was the position itself or just the angle, every thrust struck something in me that sent shocks through my body. All my thoughts turned to static as I cried out, moaning Cid's name.  
"MMnnn... Unh, God.. Vincent...mm... tell me, baby, tell me how you like it...mmn..."  
I had no idea how to answer, but the sound of his voice just made the words come. "Oh, God... Cid, harder.. Mmm, please, Cid, do it harder.. yeah...like that, mmm.. like that...!" It felt so good this way, his hands on my hips, pulling me back onto him, thrusting into me and striking that chord, over and over until I needed to scream.   
I could feel him getting frantic, close to orgasm; all at once, without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so that I could whisper in his ear as he drew closer and closer to the edge.  
"Vince," he breathed, "I-I'm..."  
"That's it, Cid, mmmm," I murmured. I felt his body tighten as I spoke. "Mmmn, so hard... that's it, baby, come for me, mmm... oh, Cid, come inside me.."  
His back arched and his fingers clawed at my skin, voice strained as he came; the force, the feel of it, and most of all the sound of his pleasures coursed through me and sent me into the final throes of orgasm, blinding me.   
When I came back down, we were collapsed together on the floor of the gondola, breathing hard and exhausted. I wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, but Cid had curled up around me with his arms strewn across my waist.   
"We'll have to go back to the room," he said, voice roughened and tired.  
I stroked his hair for a moment as we both caught our breath.  
"It can wait."  
  



	5. Chapter 5

I am SO sorry for my lateness with this. I just put it down and completely forgot about it. Please forgive me! And if you're still willing to read it, thank you, and I adore all your comments, thank you all!  
  
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It was some hours before the maintenence crew was able to fix the damage to the gondola, and Cid and I managed to lightly doze until what I imagine was about two in the morning. Unfortunately the crew did finish, and we found ourselves on the ground shortly afterward.  
We shuffled off to our room.   
The inviting darkness of the hotel was absolutely lovely. Most of the bright lights had gone off for the night, except for those in the restaurant and arcades, but we couldn't see them from our suite anyway. Cid didn't waste any words on the pleasant, gentle atmosphere of the dim room, he simply stripped to his skin (with only a brief pause to decide that his underclothes were probably too soiled to sleep in comfortably) and climbed into bed.   
I stretched, yawned, and began to undress myself. My body felt sated in a way that I hadn't been for many years, and the delicious exhaustion in my muscles reminded me that I had probably needed it as much as Cid had, if not more. It also reminded me that I was going to be sore in the morning, and I resolved to stand as much as possible. Cid had the right idea, I thought, and just pulled off my several layers of clothing. I had never slept naked for comfort's sake before, but it seemed like the thing to do, so I did.   
As I turned down the sheets, I stole a glance at the Captain's sleeping face.   
It was the same as always; the perpetual stubble that scoffed at any razor, the thick, white-blond eyebrows relaxed in place over the crystal blue eyes. His hair, touseled and- although I would never say it out loud- unbearably endearing, if not downright cute, fell over his forehead in spikes and wisps. I smiled. I didn't really know if our friendship would still remain intact in the morning, but even if it did, I could still have this. This moment, when his whole body was relaxed and satisfied, and his face held that ethereal, moonlit peace, would be mine until my heart stopped.   
I smiled to myself. Cid would sleep well tonight, and somehow, knowing that made me feel as though that everything- Sephiroth, Cloud, the Meteor, Shinra, and even Lucrecia and Hojo and I, in a way- would all be all right. The more I thought about it, that's what Cid was, boiled down; even through his rough exterior and horrible language and repulsive smoking, he was still the feeling of happiness and freedom and the sky. As long as his eyes were that same shade of blue, and his hair still shone like the sun and the clouds, I felt like everything was right in the world.  
Even if our friendship didn't live past sunrise, he was still himself, and everything would be okay.  
I had no sooner recognized the sting of tears welling in my eyes, and sat down on my bed, that Cid's gruff voice rumbled up out of his sleepiness.  
"What're you _doin_', Vincent, get yer ass in here. S'cold."  
"You want me to...?"  
He sat up and tried to look at me, but his eyes were so unfocused that he ended up looking at something slightly to my right. "You mean ta tell me you brought me up in a gondola an' fucked my half-fried brains out, an' you think you're sleepin' alone? Get _in here_. It's _cold_," he muttered. Then he lay down, wrapped up under the covers, and yawned. "Ass... thinkin'm not gon..." and he trailed off, grumbling in a half-sleep.   
And what else could I do? I just crawled under the blankets and curled up against his body, which, if you ask me, wasn't really cold at all.  
  
  
  
  
I woke to the smells of hot coffee and something powerfully sweet. I sat up, stretched, and found Cid, sitting at the edge of the bed with a racing form in one hand and a donut in the other.  
"Morn'ig," he said through his mouthful.  
"Good morning," I replied. Was Cid going to act as though it had never happened? It made sense. Well, it was better than us not speaking or feeling awkward, and we could still be friends. "What time is it?"  
"'Bout ten thirty."  
"Ten-thirty? Usually we're checked out and on the road by _nine_, have I overslept?"  
Cid shook his head. "Nah. The others are still trying for that top prize in the Battle Square, so we're gonna stay another night. They'll be at it all day."  
"I see."   
The heavy, uncomfortable silence permeated the room again. I didn't really have a good way to bring it up, and I didn't want to say anything at all if Cid would rather just forget about what happened. So, instead, I just sat quietly and looked for my clothes.   
"It's past dawn, you know," he said nonchalantly.   
I had my back to him at that point, and I froze. "Yes.. it is," I said cautiously. I wasn't sure what he would say next, but Cid being calm is more unnerving than Cid being rambunctious, and the part of my mind that has irrational fears wondered if he was going to kick me off the team entirely.   
"You said it could wait 'til dawn and I'm not waiting anymore. What the _fuck_ was that all about, Vincent?" He spun in his chair to face my bare back. "Out of nowhere you dragged me up to a carnival ride and seduced me. What the Hell did you do that for?"   
He sounded angrier than he probably meant to, but I couldn't afford to take chances. "You needed sleep," I said quietly. "I didn't know how else to take your mind off of what was going on and--"  
"Bullshit!" he spat. "If you wanted to do that you would've got me drunk. What's the _real_ reason, Vince? And don't lie to me, I know when you're lying. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you lie."  
I didn't answer. How could I tell him that I'd been lusting after him- not even lusting, really, just smitten with him. I cursed myself for my lack of control. How could I have gotten myself into this? Finally, I just sighed. "You needed sleep, Cid. You needed to be exhausted, with nothing else on your mind to keep you awake. You were an absolute wreck."  
"You really expect me to believe that you just jumped me in a gondola because I needed to go to _sleep_?" he asked. "So you really mean to say that you did it just for that, it could've been anywhere, anytime, anybody, and you woulda fucked 'em to let 'em get some rest? What the _Hell_, Vincent!?" Cid stood up and came around in front of me, glaring and upset. "Is that really all there was to it?!"  
Suddenly, having him in my face just tripped some wire in me, and I grabbed him by the collar. "Do you want the truth, Highwind? Yes, I did it because you were stressed to the point of where you might have had a heart attack, thanks to those _disgusting_ things you've always got in your mouth. And yes, I did it because smoking like a chimney and shuffling around like a half-crazed lunatic is not only a hindrance to you but a threat to our team and because of that, a threat to our very _Planet. _But no, that's not all there is to it. I did have a selfish reason for taking you up into a carnival ride, seducing you, and letting you fuck me into the floor." Here I pulled him up onto the bed, pinned him down, and straddled his waist, just as I had the night before. "I did it because I wanted to do it, and obviously you didn't have much of a problem with it, or did you forget screaming my name?"   
I didn't expect a broad, heavy arm to come sweeping me off his body and onto my back, and soon I found I had a very large and angry pilot sitting on my stomach. "No, I didn't forget, you arrogant sonuvabitch," he said, his huge hands holding my shoulders down. "And I wasn't plannin' on it either, and I still ain't. So you're gonna come clean with me right now or I'm just gonna pop you one in the fuckin' mouth for screwing with me like this, you understand? Now, out with it!"  
I couldn't keep myself from glaring at him and baring my teeth. How dare he be upset? He was the one who was always so ambiguous about things between us, always dropping little flirtatious hints and comments! "Fine! You want to hear me say it, Captain? All right, yes, I'm infatuated with you, and I have been for awhile, but if it wasn't your intention to let me know that you were interested, then you're a cruel, miserable bastard for stringing me along! Now get off m--!"  
I never finished my sentence. All the anger and fear in me washed away, as soon as I felt Cid's kiss on my lips, and his hands in my hair.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

And so it began.  
  
As I said, we never spoke of it. It didn't seem as though we needed to, and although our lives have been as different as any two lives can be, our experiences together bound us in a way that only saving the world can. If the others ever noticed the subtle changes in how we reacted to one another, they never said anything. Not that I suppose it mattered. Cloud rejoined us, and although I was relieved and pleased with his recovery, as were we all, I could not help but feel selfishly comforted. Cid's burdens were lightened from not having to lead a team that suffered the loss of three members, and I suppose we all felt better that we were, more or less, whole. Things were as right as they could be.  
  
At one point I overheard Tifa saying something about how nice it was that I was finally beginning to socialize with the team, although how she came to that conclusion is beyond me. My social interactions with anyone but Cid were strained at best; I simply did not have the tolerance to withstand Tifa and her disenheartening dependence on Cloud, or Barret's gargantuan clumsiness, or Yuffie's constant attempts to rifle through my pockets and finding things that were undeniably _not_ materia, or Cait Sith's- well, Reeve's, I suppose- utter silliness. Cloud was present, but often distant to me, and Nanaki and I really had very little to say to each other that was not concern for one another in battle, or thank-you's and you're-welcomes associated with the receiving and giving, respectively, of scratches. There were times that we found ourselves being of similar opinions on certain subject, but that didn't leave much room for discussion.   
  
As soon as he was out of the hospital and on his feet, Cloud insisted that we get back on track right away, but the medication he'd been given demanded some time for it to run its course through his body. Tifa decided to spend a while letting him rest, so we went to spend that time at Icicle Inn. With the snow and warm fires and so on, we all thought it would be relaxing (and although he didn't mention it, I had a feeling that Cid wanted to try snowboarding again). Cloud felt it was a waste, but none of us were all that willing to stand against Tifa on the subject.   
  
Of course, Cloud is not the type of man to sit in idleness if it can be helped, and if he was too ill to fight, he certainly was not too ill to think. He called me up onto the roof, where even if we were heard, it wouldn't matter.  
  
"Vincent... I need to talk to you for a minute."   
  
"Hm." He sounded concerned, and wary, as though he knew I wouldn't like what he had to say. Although I don't particularly trust Cloud's judgment when it comes to what I do and do not like, he seemed as though it hurt him to say what he wanted.  
  
"I've been thinking... about how we're going to do this... Eventually we'll _have_ to go back to Midgar. And.... well.... We're probably going to have to deal with the Turks. And Hojo."  
  
What could he want from me, I wondered; it wasn't as though I had any ties to him except that he needed to be stopped.  
  
"When we go to fight him... I want you to stay behind."   
  
"What?!" I probably spoke with more force in that one word than any I had ever said to him before.  
  
"You have a personal vendetta against him, Vincent, and that compromises your judgement. Who knows what kind of things he's got defending him? I know he can't be popular at ShinRa, there has to be something keeping him safe. On top of that, he's insane. Seeing you might set him off, and I don't really want that battle to be more difficult than it needs to be.... I understand how hard it is for you, but.. "  
  
"How can you understand? Cloud, this man took everything from me - Lucrecia, her son, thirty years- thirty _years_, Cloud, I've spent more of my life in that horrible casket than out! I can't just sit back and let someone else do my dirty work..." I told him. I couldn't blame him for thinking the way he did, because he did have a point, and during my Turk days I might have said the same thing to my teammates, were they in this situation. "I have sins to atone for, Cloud, and I can't do that until Hojo has been stopped."  
  
"We'll stop him," he said quietly. "I knew you wouldn't like the idea, but... we can't afford to take unnecessary risks. I can't really stop you from coming, Vincent, but I'm going to ask you... as a teammate and a friend, stay behind. We know you have to settle this, but there's nothing wrong with letting your friends help you. Just keep in mind that this is the whole Planet we're talking about, and everyone who's suffered because of what Hojo did... just think about it, okay?"  
  
I nodded, but that didn't console me, and I left the room before I could do something counterproductive. I stayed alone in Cid's and my room, thinking. Although Cid came back in an excited, if snow-covered, good humor after his several snowboarding attempts, he seemed to sense that I was not in the mood to talk. We passed the night in silence, and I resolved to trust Cloud's judgment; he was right, there was more at stake here than my own peace of mind, and it would be selfish to put our entire mission at risk. With that in mind, I slept, although I couldn't bring myself to be satisfied with my decision.  
  
  
---  
  
  
  
With Tifa tending to him,Yuffie out stealing things, and Barret and Nanaki trying to find a chocobo big enough to support Barret's weight (nobody even asked where Cait Sith went, which I suppose is just as well), Cid and I enjoyed each other's company.  
  
The hotel was small and comfortable, with crackling fires and thick, warm blankets; all of it was very cozy and so far removed from the atmosphere of the ShinRa mansion that I found myself sleeping much more restfully. This, I'm sure, was enhanced by having Cid curled up against my chest. Unfortunately restful places don't suit Cid very well, and he insisted that I come outside with him; when he still pestered me, despite the three or so pillows I had thrown at him, I followed him and the snowboard out.  
  
There really wasn't much to do, except help Cid drag his poor, broken body back up the hill every time he crashed into something on his way down, but that was really a reward in itself. Cid with snow in his boxers is a laugh riot.   
  
When darkness rolled in, we came inside, welcoming the warmth and comfort of a roaring fire and a hot meal, which we took in our room. Comfortable silence, flavored with the sort of intimacy that doesn't demand much rapport, seemed to keep us entertained for the evening. Dinner was a simple affair; hot soup, a game of cards, and some bizzare liquor of Cid's that tasted vaguely of vermouth, cherry juice and engine fluid. In the end, I would say it was a productive night. Had I been the type to keep my winnings and not slip them back into his wallet, I might have made off with all of his Gil, his wristwatch, and three of his Materia.   
  
"Good game, Vincent," he said nonchalantly, lighting up one of those bedamned cigarettes. "Can't fuckin' believe I lost that bad..."  
  
"It's not as though I'm skilled, you know. You simply can't hold a poker face, Chief," I told him.  
  
"Yeah.. Heh, I guess I wear my cards on my sleeve." He put the deck back in its box and poured another glass of his booze, then proceeded to take a swig from the bottle. "Hey... can I ask you something?"  
  
"What about?" I took my bandanna off and hung it up next to Cid's goggles on the rack.   
  
"You were upset yesterday," he began, voice carefully neutral. He took another drink. "What's eating you?"  
  
I stopped and really considered the question. Should I tell him? And if I did, what would he think? I doubted he would approve of Cloud's asking me to sit out the most important battle of my unnatural life, and I knew he wouldn't approve of my honoring his request. "Nothing," I said.  
  
"Liar."  
  
Damn. "Yes."  
  
"So? What's bothering you?" he pressed as he put his feet up on the table. He didn't look like he was going anywhere, and he seemed relaxed enough to hear me out, so I decided that it might be good to talk about it.  
  
It took a few minutes and some careful word choice on my part, but I managed to explain what had transpired between me and our esteemed leader. As expected, Cid did not take the peaceful road and proceeded to denounce Cloud's manhood, my courage, Hojo's sexual potency, and then our collective intelligence, in that order (although, as one could probably assume, he used much more colorful language and managed to expose me to the word "cluster-fuck" for the first time). After his tirade and about a quarter of that liquor gone, not including the glass he'd poured, I told him to politely shut his pie hole.  
  
Then he went into a laughing fit because I'd said "pie hole". At that point I told him I knew of another "hole" of his and a certain "claw" that he may find inside it if he kept acting like a moron, and he quickly responded that if he was going to have an appendage of mine inside him, he'd prefer it to be a leg instead of an arm- specifically, the third one. After that, it was war, and I must say that I emerged victorious, but Cid didn't seem too disappointed with losing.   
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The One Who Should Have Slept  
  
Morning came with its usual cheery fervor, sunlight pouring in over everything, particularly over Cid. He sleeps heavily, and, when we aren't curled up around one another, tends to spill himself over whatever he's passed out on. I try not to muse on his presence, but his sleeping face, bathed in sunlight and turning his skin and hair that soft, warm gold, makes me need to watch him for just a moment.  
  
He is beautiful and golden, and the sunlight loves him. All is right in the world.  
  
But, staying in bed doesn't suit me these days, so I dressed and stepped outside. The cold air felt refreshing-- the newness of fresh air and open spaces has yet to be lost on me, after being kept in that miserable box-- but the question of what to tell Cloud still had its claws sinking into my back.  
  
Sephiroth's long, lonely journey of discovery, ending in the summoning of Meteor and, perhaps, the end of human life itself; Lucrecia's pregnancy, manipulation,  
and death; the imprisonment and (perhaps most disturbing) renaming of Red XIII, the capture and murder of Aeris, and whatever bizarre things he might have done to Cloud. All these atrocities had their roots within Hojo's hands-- we had ALL suffered because of what Hojo had done, the only difference was that some of us suffered more directly than others.  
  
The more I thought about it, the more questions I had.  
"Why does Hojo obsess so much over Sephiroth's success if his goal is to destroy everything? Is it simply the influence of Jenova, or is he just insane?"  
  
Admittedly, we had never been friends, Hojo and I. The rare times we spoke when it wasn't strictly to our respective orders, it was often along the lines of "Don't touch those samples," or "Hands off, doctor,  
those are classified."  
  
What if I had been friendlier to him, I wondered.  
Hojo's was a quiet suffering, if it was ever there; he never worked well with anyone, content with his own intelligence for company. That kind of life had to have been difficult, and although I couldn't bring myself to forgive him-- there is no suffering that could justify the misery he had visited upon everyone around me-- I thought, perhaps, I could understand if I had enough time.  
  
And, I reminded myself bitterly, I would have a very,  
very long time.  
  
But, long time or no, a man must eat to keep his strength, so I came inside for breakfast. The faint sweetness of sugar in my coffee, the creamy saltiness of butter on warm, fragrant bread; details I had taken for granted before my incarceration. Does it really take that kind of deprivation to appreciate the small miracles of mundane life? If not for the night sky,  
would anyone think the stars are beautiful?  
  
As I mused, Cid roused from his nest of blankets and greeted me with a sun-warmed embrace.  
  
"Morning, sunshine," I said softly. "Did you sleep well, chief?"  
  
He nodded and sat next to me. "I was thinking..."  
  
"I'd wondered what that burning smell was," I replied.  
  
He snorted and poured himself some tea. "I'm serious,"  
he said, "I was thinking about what you said last night... I think Cloud might have a point."  
  
My heart sank in my chest; of all people who should have understood, or at least sympathized, shouldn't it be a man whose dreams were dashed by the same hands that killed Lucrecia and imprisoned me? But I said nothing, and felt my fists tighten as he continued.  
  
"I know you want him dead, Vincent- we all do, don't forget- but you're the only one of us who really knew him personally for more than a few days; you know first-hand what kind of shit he can do--"  
  
"Precisely why I SHOULD go, Cid! I know all too well what he--"  
  
"Let me finish! I said, you know what he can do, and that's gonna mess you up when it comes down to the real fight. If you go up to fight Hojo, that's more blood on your hands and more nightmares, more shit you'll have to pick up and try to put down."  
  
Cid cast his eyes down for a minute, sat down in his chair and pulled me close to him. He put his arms around my waist and put his head against my stomach.  
  
"Look... I know you want to get this guy, but you don't need more of his bullshit, and that's what you're gonna get if you do this... Really think about what you're doing here, okay? Sometimes it's just better to let it go."  
  
I ran my fingers through his soft, golden hair, and took a moment to consider. He had a very good point-  
would I really get closure out of participating in this?  
  
For a long moment we were silent, each lost in our own thoughts, and again I found myself paying closer attention to Cid than the things that should have been crowding my tired mind. I couldn't fault him for worrying-- he does things that worry me, on occasion-  
but I never interfere like he was doing then. I felt like he had decided what I needed without really understanding, although deep down I knew he didn't mean anything but what he'd said.  
  
But my silence must have made him uncomfortable, and he seemed to have taken it as indignant rather than introspective.  
  
"Vincent... look... If you say you're good to deal with this, I'll believe you, and I'll back you to the hill, just... decide what you need to do, for your own sake, and do it. I..." He stopped for a minute,  
considering his words-- a rare expression, I can tell you-- and then, quietly, "Whatever you do... it won't make me love you any less."  
  
It was the first time either of us had said it out loud. It was the first time I'd ever heard anyone say it to me, really, and I wrapped my arms tight around him. "Cid... I have to do this... Everyone I have ever loved has suffered because of him. If I can't even be there to see him meet justice, then I will have watched him live, sin, and die, without ever doing anything to stop him. I have to go, Cid."  
  
He sighed, but he nodded, and when he finally stood up he gave me that cocksure expression he usually wore in situations like this. "All right... then I'll just tell Cloud that you and I are going with him to stomp Hojo into the ground."  
  
I half-smiled. I would have expected nothing less from him, really. "All right then, it's settled," I said,  
and kissed his forehead- he doesn't like that, he thinks I'm picking on him because he's short, but I do it anyway. "You realize that the darkness in my nightmares, the beast I become, and all the blood on my hands has its origins within this man."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"And that if you do this, my nightmare may well become yours."  
  
"Wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
I touched his cheek then and just looked into his eyes-- the sky, freedom, everything I had ever wanted to protect looked back at me. "I love you as well,  
Cid."  
  
We gave our ultimatum to Cloud, who couldn't refuse at the risk of mutiny, and we made plans to leave for Midgar. The airship was tense as we flew over the city, the sky's color becoming poisoned by the pollution and the foul energy surging forth from the towering buildings. Monoliths of corruption, crossed only by the twisted compass-arrow of Sister Ray aimed for Sephiroth.  
  
I had not been to Midgar in some time, not since first receiving my orders as a member of the Turks. In those days it had seemed claustrophobic, engines and towers,  
the finest advances science could bring. Mako was harmless and cheap, people were on the verge of a new golden age. The unrest in Wutai was only hot air and blustering that would never erupt into real war. Of course I had found it uncomfortable, but Midgar, in all its chrome-polished glory, really seemed to be a beacon of hope for people who dreamed of easier lives.  
  
But, looking at it from the deck of the Highwind, it looked like a stain on the Planet-- an oily, festering cancer full of greedy, lazy people who saw the world around them and devised new ways of bleeding it of its life and brightness for money. At the center of it,  
Shinra, the beating heart of this monster; within ShinRa, there was Hojo, and if Shinra was the heart of this depravity, Hojo was its own disease.  
  
"Pray that Jenova can secure you a place in death,  
Simon," I murmured as I looked into the gaping mouth beneath me, "for left to me, my nightmare would be as a single raindrop, compared to the ocean of suffering in which I would drown you." 


	8. Chapter 8

The climb to the top of the tower was nothing short of harrowing. The whirr and whine of machinery was all around us like fog, pulled into my chest and lungs as I breathed, and it rattled in my head and made my teeth ache. The sound of our footsteps; Cloud's unusually deft, quick strides up the stairs, Cid's heavy boot-thumps, and the metallic clinking of the tips of my own feet against the steel grills. Up and up and up, to the polluted Midgar sky.

Every step up reminded me of every step down into the basement-- that accursed den of dripping, bleeding _sin_. It had always stricken me as a kindness of fate that such a horrific place was kept underground, away from the eyes of the innocent, away from the light of day. But _this_, atop this tangled mess of beams and girders and engines, this wretched _beast_, piloted under a whirlpool of chemicals by a man whose only desire was to further rape this wounded world-- this was an affront. An insult. Here Hojo and ShinRa and every arrogant, lazy monster in its glass-and-silver bowels turned their sneering faces to the heavens, filled their blubbery cheeks with the vomit of their industrial splendor, and spit in the face of God.

I reloaded.

The rage was an exercise in futility; the more anger I felt, the more surprised I was at my own intensity, and I began to cling to that hatred as I had done with my misery and loneliness. It fueled me then, until all I could think about were the two eyes that had been the last thing I had seen before the coffin lid. All those years of numbness, of feelings dissolved in memory, only to face this madman who had become nothing but an ugly road block on the path the real threat; even after all he had done, he wasn't the one we wanted, he was just conveniently in the way, and that only made it worse.

As we crested the top, where Hojo worked at the controls, and he and Cloud began to speak. More of Hojo's nonsense; science and the like, Cloud as a failure, but there were no words that made it through the watery thickness of my hearing; there was nothing but my own pulse, until that disgusting laugh burbled up from his oddly distended throat.

"Ha, ha, ha... Although he doesn't know. Ha, ha, ha... HA, HA, HA...!! What will Sephiroth think when he finds out I'm his father? Always looking down

on me like that. HA, HA, HA...!!" he cackled, voice pitching higher and higher with every breath.

Cloud balked. "Sephiroth is your son?"

"Ha, ha, ha... I offered the woman with my child to Professor Gast's Jenova Project. When Sephiroth was still in the womb, we took the cells of Jenova... HA, HA, HA!!"

He was laughing. _Laughing_. He didn't even use her _name_... I couldn't work my voice enough to speak. But in the back of my mind I thought, offered? I had known all along that it was Hojo's disgusting, hairbrained scheme, but had he really just given her up like that? Had he been planning it all along; had he just been using Lucrecia from the start? I bit my lip to keep from screaming and felt the hot, metallic taste of blood well up around my tongue.

"I can't believe you're the one who did this... The illusionary crime against Sephiroth..." Cloud began to put it together; for him, Sephiroth as a person was a far more real image than for the rest of us, having known him before he'd gone mad. And he was right; the crimes committed against him as a boy were unknown to him entirely, and the ones that drove him to madness had all been the delusions of a soul trying to find its place in the flow of life on the Planet. I felt my claws dig into my palm through the leather glove.

"Heee, hee, hee, hee! No you're wrong! It's my desire as a scientist! Heee, hee, hee, hee! I... was defeated by my desire to become a scientist. I

lost the last time as well. I've injected Jenova's cells into my own body! Heee, hee, hee! Here are... Heee, hee, hee! ...my results!!"

And then, painfully sudden, I felt it all snap back into place. All those nightmares and torturous memories, all of Lucrecia's pain, and the suffering of that poor little boy whose mother had been too overwhelmed and sick to protect him.. None of those things were my fault at all. Even if I couldn't save Lucrecia or her child, I hadn't been the one to _do_ those horrible things! I, who had loved her, who had wanted to raise _our_ son as a family-- of all the blame that could be laid at anyone's feet, though I had failed her as a lover and a friend, this burden was _not_ mine to carry.

Cid flashed me an electric-blue gaze from across the platform as he hefted his lance and spat his cigarette over the rail. The red glow caressed the side of his cheek as it fell, and his teeth were white against the black of the darkened sky behind him. He looked like Death, and in his eyes I saw the end of the me that had been. He smiled.

I turned back toward Hojo, whose body had begun to bulge and contort with the cancerous growth of Jenova cells. He had lost to his ambition, and now he would lose to the ones he'd sinned against.

"I was wrong, the one who should have slept was ... you, Hojo!"

The battle raged for what seemed like hours, though I knew it was only minutes.

Sword and lance and gun blasts, tearing through mounds of sickened flesh; the glow of Materia as the hurt of claw strikes and magic were soothed by a teammate. The blur of combat dissolved my immediate ability to tell Cloud from Cid; blond was good, monster was bad, and that was all I needed to know. I felt my pulse in every fiber of every muscle, I felt the throb in my teeth and my eyes, my fingertips felt tight and restrained against the warmed metal of the trigger. The Galian Beast gnashed its teeth and I felt my jaw tighten as I reflexively beat it back.

The thing-that-had-been Hojo curved around Cloud's sword and flung its arm-claw into me; it found purchase in my chest-- I howled and felt the fangs shift in, and though it barely had a face to speak of, I _knew_ the thing had grinned at me.

The blood poured out over the metal, and almost before I could stand again, Cid was there, Cure spell settling over the gaping wound and knitting the skin and bone like it had never been injured at all. I looked at him, teeth bared and shaking with the rage that wanted to take shape and burst out. In the past I had been wary of succumbing to the beast, knowing that no amount of violence or coaxing could calm it once it was loosed to do as it wills, and did my best to keep myself in check until it was safe to let it free. I looked up at him, feeling my mouth realign with the beginnings of new teeth. "It wants to come forth," I managed.

Cid, bruised around one eye and with a bloody patch at the corner of his lip, pulled me close, long enough to sink his teeth into my ear. The pain was sharp and violently erotic, rushing through the underside of my skin like boiling water, and as he pulled away, he grinned. The pain had called the Beast forth irrepressibly and I hunched, trying to urge him to flee with my eyes.

"Do it," he said, and lept into the sky.

The last thing I saw was the gleam of the light of Meteor, edging his lance as he eclipsed it in my vision.

I spent several hours in a whirl of red haze and claws. The Beast eventually glutted itself on its violence and slunk back off into my mind and the cells of my body, and slowly, some time later, I dredged myself out of the deep darkness that permeated my mind after the transformation. I could feel the Galian Beast's satisfaction as it curled up somewhere inside me and lazily watched the goings-on, as it is wont to do.

The hum of the Airship's engines was gentle in my ears. I felt drained, exhausted, and sore, but I opened my eyes to the clean white light of flourescent ceiling lamp, and the carnelian glow of sunset filtered through a dusty porthole-- someone, probably Cid, had undressed me and laid me on a thick quilt, and thrown a linen bedsheet over me for good measure. It was soft and smooth and felt clean, though an odd smell seemed to hang about the room. The simple bedding was a pleasurable sensation that soothed the soreness and itching and general body pain of having my flesh rearranged to express my unfathomable rage. Part of me wanted to sit up, but it felt so good to just lie still, safe and knowing that Cid would be there to look after me while I rested. But I couldn't recall ever seeing a sick bay or infirmary in the airship, and so I inspected the quilt-- homemade, I was certain, though I wondered what it would be doing up here. Under that-- straw.

Straw. He'd put me to bed in the chocobo stables.

That explained the smell, anyway, I had thought. At least it wasn't terribly offensive. Cloud's only interest in chocobos had been breeding them, and had yet to come up with any that he liked. Only one or two had ever even set foot in the place; whatever odor there was came from the underused feed bins and the general funk of bird in a small room.

I had closed my eyes to rest when Cid returned, my clothes bundled up in a lumpy square under one arm. "Yo," he said, casually waving. "Sleep okay?"

"Well enough." My voice was rough. The Galian Beast had enjoyed its work, it seemed. As I smiled at Cid, I felt a kind of non-reaction from the Beast as it saw Cid through my eyes, and this was odd; often, it regards others with a mindless need to kill, but when it's done its job, it mostly just hates all life. But Cid, it seemed, was okay in its mind, and in its place in the reptilian, sub-human corner of my brain, the Galian Beast seemed to approve of our closeness. Though the opinions of my other selves are not things I strive to know or change, it made me feel better to know that the Beast inside me was not adverse to this.

"You sound like shit," Cid said succinctly, and sat down in the straw at my side, and offered me my clothes. "I patched 'em up for you... you started going all purple and bulgy about halfway through the beginning of all that, so you busted some stitches."

"I see.. thank you." I smiled, and examined his handiwork. "It seems that you've a knack for repairing things that have come apart at the seams."

"Somethin' like that," he said, and laughed. He sobered quickly, and lit a cigarette. "Cloud and Tifa are on the bridge. Cloud says he wants us to go out and remember why we're doing this, what we're fighting for. See our friends, family, stuff like that."

I nodded. "Shera, then?"

He looked at me with an expression like he'd just swallowed a bad lemon. "Shera? Fuck no, man..." He calmed quickly, and took another drag. "It's not like I don't care about her..."

"You're practically married anyway, Cid," I pointed out. And it was true. Cid and I had become lovers at the edge of the knife, as it were, and our affections for one another were forged in the heat of battle. Cid and Shera had lived together for years. Blaming Shera for the failure of the space program was over and done with, and without that to roughen his tone, he was actually affectionate with her; I thought they would do very well together.

But he looked uncomfortable for a minute, and then frowned. I got the feeling he wasn't saying what he was thinking, but he said, "I couldn't go see her now. If I went and told her what we were up to, she'd know I wasn't planning to come back, and right now, I think having a mopey Shera in my arms isn't going to do me as much good as thinking of her waiting for me to get back. I need to know there's someone at home who believes in me, you know?"

I didn't. I started to nod, but he'd know I was lying, so I looked away. "Everyone who has ever believed in me is in this room, Cid."

He put his arm around me, and I leaned my head against his. "What about Lucrecia?"

I shook my head. "She and I were never what I wanted us to be; she trusted me as a confidant, and as a bodyguard around town, but nothing more than that. She was a doctor, she had colleagues and research and noble pursuits; I was a Turk. The work I did for ShinRa wasn't something we could talk about and the company had already erased everything else about me.. in truth, I don't think she ever really knew me at all. But that's in the past," I said, and I meant it. "Have you decided? Why you're doing this, I mean?"

Cid moved me over on the blanket and laid down, hands under his head. "The world's worth saving... all the best stuff is here.. you figure, the world is full of people, and every single one of those people thinks shit up, all day, even if they don't realize they're doing it. Somewhere on this chunk of dirt, somebody is thinkin' shit up, and some of it's good stuff-- maybe they invented something new in the back of their head, and tomorrow they're gonna build it, or maybe they just had an idea to write a book about and it'll change the way everyone who reads it thinks. Maybe they just hit on some kind of new philosophy that'll start a new religion. Maybe the guy who wrote Loveless is working on something new. Everything starts out an idea, and if everybody gets their brain mashed in from a Meteor landing on it.. no more new ideas."

"And no more tomorrows to act on them."

"Yeah," Cid took another drag on the cigarette, smoke curling up from his lips. "What about you? You got a reason for doing this?"

"Sephiroth deserved a chance to be a person." The words came almost before I could think them. "He was born to cruel parents and raised to fulfill the expectations of men who sat in a board room to decide how he would be bent, folded, and mutilated, in the most cost-effective way. But for now, the only thing we can do is rid the world of him, before any more damage is done... The world lost much meaning to me long ago, but once we put Sephiroth to rest, I can start over... he's the last broken piece."

The words steeled me somewhat, and Cid's arm around my waist was warm and made me feel grounded, secure. He pulled me down to lie beside him, and threaded his fingers through my hair.

"Start over, huh.. what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. What about you?"

"Dunno."

He kissed me then, gently, and with a familiar ease that reminded me of all those nights in all those inns across the world. The warmth of his touch and the roughness of his hands, the comfort of having him near. The blue in his eyes, and the gold of his hair, and even as I pinned him down on my cape, seeing the bright red under all that breathless sky in Cid beneath me, I felt us both rushing to find comfort in one another's arms. I hooked his knee over my shoulder and pressed my lips against the inside of his thigh, and we moved together, desperate to make what could be our final moments count; his voice rang through the metal chambers and it was music to my ears, even as we collapsed together on the blanket, exhausted and in the core of ourselves afraid.

Tomorrow we would fight the greatest threat to our Planet we had ever known. We would fly into the Crater, we would confront Sephiroth, and we would stop Meteor.I wouldn't have anyone at home to believe in me, but I would have him beside me, and that was all anyone could ask for. The world might end tomorrow, but it would wait until dawn.


End file.
